“We’re coming, too,” Neal said.
“Where are the hands?” Crissy asked as they went out the front door of the farmhouse.
“Day off,” Luke said.
“Better lock the door then.”
“Out here, city girl?”
Luke’s arm went around her waist, warm and stable.
“It’s fine,” she said. “It’s good to be outside.”
He inhaled deeply. “Good. I knew it would be.”
As they drove to town, she forced herself to make chit-chat.
“What were you doing out in the barn all day yesterday?”
He smiled, probably sensing what she did, but playing along with it anyway. “Getting the equipment ready for spring. Tune-ups. Cleaning.”
“If you do more woodworking, I’d like to watch.”
“Ja. Yes. I’d like that. Maybe I could teach you some things.”
They talked all the way to town, Crissy feeling more human with every mile.
They pulled into a spot in the alley beside the bar. The door was unlocked, and silence greeted them. Walking through the lit but empty kitchen, Crissy wondered where all the customers were. Where Bobby had gotten to.
“Where is everybody?”
“I don’t know. Maybe out in the bar?”
Beyond the window and counter, where Bobby placed food orders for her to pick up, the main room was darkened. She pushed through the swinging doors. Lights sprang on and shouts of “Surprise!” greeted her.
Her tongue tied itself into knots, from surprise rather than the hawk’s wordless speech. The room had to have been filled with forty people, most of them shifters. An enormous banner hung from the ceiling, reading: Welcome Crissy.
“Surprise, Crissy. This is for you,” Luke whispered in her ear from behind her.
“But it’s not my birthday or anything.”
“This is your welcoming party. It’s a tradition.”
“But...”
He gently grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Shifters are rare, Crissy. We don’t turn humans very often anymore. On successful turnings, we celebrate.”
She scanned the people in the room. Neal and Hugh came forward to hug her. “Come greet your new family,” Hugh said.
Family. Even though most of them were strangers, she felt their warm acceptance. “They will love you,” Luke whispered. “They will always care for you. None of us will ever abandon you. This is your home now.”
And then she knew what kept her running for so many years. She hadn’t just been running from Sean; she’d been running to. She had been searching for these people, this place. She was home.
EPILOGUE
They married amid the drifting apple blossoms in the orchards near the house on a warm, sunny Saturday in April. The tiny white flowers perfumed the gentle breeze. Shifters came from as far away as Germany to witness Luke Baumann’s marriage, to see the mate Fate had given him. They crowded around them under the canopy of branches and tiny green spring leaves as they said their vows. Afterward, they led the guests to the lawn and the feast spread out on tables covered with cheerful yellow cloths.
Four hours later, Luke and Crissy retreated to an upstairs bathroom under the excuse of helping her repair her elaborate hairdo. A better description might be Luke doing his best to get under her skirts while Crissy picked blossoms from her hair.
“Leave the blossoms. I like them,” Luke said between kisses against the back of her neck. She shivered in a way that left her knees weak. His hands cupped her full breasts through the white satin and lace of her gown, making her weak everywhere else.
“Are we really going to have sex in the bathroom while two hundred shifters party on our lawn?”
“Did you lock the door?” His voice rumbled in the way it did when he was getting aroused.
“Yes.”
“Then yes, we are going to have sex in the bathroom. Why else did you lock it?”
“Can we do it without wrinkling my gown or messing up my hair?”
In response he growled and leaned forward to press her against the counter. She lost her balance. Hairpins clattered against tile as she reached out to steady herself.
“Luke!” She giggled and turned to kiss his lips.
“That’s much more like it.”
She glanced through the open window to see if anyone on the front lawn could see them and saw a dark gray truck coming up the gravel drive. Distracted by it, she turned her head to look more closely.
“Someone’s coming. Who’d show up this late?”
Luke, undeterred, gave her a deep kiss, almost making her forget her question and definitely making her forget the state of her wedding dress. “Describe the car.”
“Hmmm. What?”
He kissed her again. “The car coming up the drive.”
“Dark gray truck. The kind with four doors.”
He stilled. His arms tightened around her, and he pulled back, gaze intent. “Not today.”
“Who? Who is it?” She thought she might know.
He released her and stepped to the window, but the truck had already driven around the side of the house to where most of the guests parked by the pasture.
“It’s Bernie. Stay here.”
“Oh, yeah, like that’s gonna fly.”
“Crissy—”
“I’m coming.”
For a few seconds, he said nothing.
“He won’t kill me. He had plenty of opportunity to do that.”
He sighed and reached out with his right hand, taking Crissy’s. With his left, he snapped open the lock on the door and swept it open. Pulling her along behind him, he strode down the upper hall. At the stairs, her long gown hampered her.
“Luke, slow down. This thing is a pain in the ass.” She pinched up a fold of the skirt and clutched the banister with her other hand. Luke put his arm around her waist to steady her and walked down by her side.
“Have you been talking to him?”
One of her low pumps came off between one step and the next. She stopped and lifted her skirt higher to find it. “Of course not. Just the one time. What would we talk about? Reminisce about the time he held me captive? Besides...” She stuck her toes in the heel of the shoe and wiggled her foot to get it oriented in the right direction. “Your feelings would be hurt, I think.”
“So you don’t want to talk to him?”
She paused, her foot half in the shoe. “He saved me. I’m always going to be in his debt. If he wants to speak with me, I’ll give him that much.”
The arm around her waist drew her close until his tall, warm length pressed against her side. “You don’t have to pretend not to care, Crissy. You were with him a month, and even though the hawk was mostly in charge, you also listened to what he had to say.” The hand not holding her waist now went to her cheek, calloused fingertips caressing her there. “You never told me all that he said.”
“Whenever I tried to talk about it, you got mad.”
“I’m willing to try to listen. What did he say?”
They stood in the middle of the staircase. She glanced down. The front room was vacant except for the mountain of gifts in shiny papers piled on tables along one wall. Through the swinging door to the kitchen came the muffled talk of the caterers and the clank of dishes. Someone spoke loudly, and several people laughed, a remote sound, leaving her with a sense of isolation. From their bedroom above them, Milton and Hairy cried their outrage at being pent up inside.
“He’s not as crazy as you make him out to be. In fact, from what I saw, Franz is the one who’s a little unhinged.”
“No way. Franz always kept him in line.”
She shook her head. “Franz controls him, but I suspect that’s because Bernie lets him. Bernie seemed to do exactly what he wanted. And what he wanted to do was wallow in grief and remorse. He regrets what happened, Luke. I’m one-hundred-percent certain.”
Luke shook his head, disbelief written large upon his face. “No
. That’s not... That can’t be true. He’s followed us halfway across the world. That’s nuts.”
“His vengeance is all he has, and I think he doesn’t even have that anymore.”
The door swung, letting out a cloud of steam fragrant with dish soap and cilantro. A woman in a black skirt and white blouse stepped out. “Mrs. Baumann? There’s a man on the back porch to see you.”
“Thank you. I’ll be right down.” She patted at loose strands of hair, and found she managed to put most of them in order despite Luke’s attempts to undo the whole thing. “I’ll let you come if you promise to be civil.”
“Let me come?”
“Doesn’t fit so well when the shoe is on the other foot, does it?”
“Woman, if this were one hundred years ago—”
“Yeah, well, it’s not. ‘Obey’ wasn’t in our marriage vows, and it won’t be in our marriage.”
“Oh, now we have this conversation.”
She smiled sweetly. “Too late.”
“It was too late the moment I walked into that bar,” he muttered.
“Come on, he’s waiting.”
Shoe firmly in place, she proceeded down the stairs and through the bustling kitchen. Her white skirts weren’t very wide, but big enough that she slowed to keep from brushing against foody things as the caterers and waitpersons scrambled to keep up with the appetites of their army of guests.
She sobered as she approached the back door, but didn’t hesitate as she opened it wide and stepped out onto the porch where Bernie Schmitt waited. His finely tailored, dove gray suit set off his sandy hair and blue eyes. During her captivity, she hadn’t noticed he was a handsome man, tall with a roguish air in the point of his chin and the smile lines around his eyes. Now, though, they were somber, watching her as she smoothed her skirt.
“Bernie,” she said. Luke stood behind her, hands warm on her shoulders. Her sleeveless gown might have been a poor choice for early spring.
Bernie eyed her up and down with an almost reverent expression. “Crissy, you look lovely today.” He wore a sheepish grin. “I wanted to see you, if only once. I thought this occasion might be a good excuse.”
Luke’s hands tensed, his taut presence behind her a reminder of how momentous this meeting was. These two men had feuded for over five hundred years. There and then, Crissy vowed to herself to see them reconciled. It wouldn’t end today, but today would be where the end began.
“You’re welcome, Bernie. It’s a wonderful gift to have you here.”
Out beyond the couples dancing to “Shake Your Groove Thing” and the people standing around with their third or seventh drink in hand, Franz Schmitt waited under the edge of the apple trees. His black suit stood out like a blot of ink on the carpet of pristine white apple blossoms. Even from this distance, she could see his disapproval in the set of his jaw and the way his hands clasped in front of him, right over left. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hugh advancing toward them. She shook her head slightly and flicked her gaze Franz’s way. Hugh, catching on, nodded and angled in Franz’s direction.
Bernie glanced over his shoulder. “He’s unhappy, but he won’t do anything.”
“I’m not entirely happy,” Luke said, speaking for the first time. Crissy elbowed him a little.
“I won’t be long. I wanted to see you and give you this.” He held out the box in his hands, wrapped in silver with a bright red ribbon. “Please, let me see you open it. The card first.”
She took it from him and slid her thumb under the flap. The simple cream card on heavy stock read Congratulations in silver script and held a piece of paper inside. Crissy frowned at it. All she could make out were the words “Lukas Baumann.” The rest was written in German. “I think this is for you,” she said, handing it over her shoulder.
Luke released her to take the note. He slowly unfolded it. His frown deepened to be replaced by a careful, neutral expression. He nodded at Bernie, folded the note in quarters, and slipped it into an interior pocket of his tuxedo. “That is quite a wedding present.”
“He mustn’t know I said anything.”
“He’s watching right now.”
Bernie’s face lit up in that roguish smile she’d come to expect from him. “Act furious. I told him I was going to tell you how pretty your mate looked naked when she shifted in the cell.”
“She never—”
Crissy giggled. “Bernie, stop it.”
“Oh.” Luke’s hands returned to her upper arms.
“You were always so easy to bait, Baumann.”
“And you were always impossible.”
Bernie shrugged and smiled. “That’s because I have so little to give a shit about.”
Suddenly sad for him, Crissy changed the subject by reaching for the box. It weighed more than she expected, and she almost dropped it. She pulled the ribbon slowly, and the whole bow came undone, followed by the wrapping as she picked at the tape. In her mind, Bernie deserved special care and patience, and she gave it to his package. Inside, she found a lovely ceramic bear.
“It’s beautiful, Bernie. I love it.” And she did. “Did you make this yourself?”
“Yes, and remember, it’s not a big bear, like your mate. It’s a very big bear.”
Luke growled, but Crissy laughed. She threw her arms around Bernie. “Thank you. Thank you for everything you did. Thank you for saving me.” Bernie didn’t move, probably too shocked. Neither did Luke, probably too furious. She decided to keep the hug short, but did place a brief kiss on Bernie’s cheek. “I owe you more than I can say.”
She glanced up at Luke’s thunderous expression and slid her arm beneath his and around his waist. “I think this might be the happiest day of my life.”
He smiled down at her.
Bernie cleared his throat and swallowed hard. “You might have saved me right back, little bird.” He glanced around. Some of the guests on the lawn, recognizing Bernie, turned to watch the exchange. Neal approached, threading his way between the throngs of people.
“I should go.” She didn’t argue. Although she might welcome him, most of the rest of the clan wouldn’t. “If you need anything, Crissy, you know how to reach me.” With that he turned and skipped down the steps as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Schmitt,” Luke called out. Bernie paused before turning to look back. “Thank you. Thank you for taking care of my mate.”
Bernie grinned, turned, and trotted to where his brother now talked with Hugh under the trees.
“What was in the note?”
“A warning.”
“But—”
“Not a threat. A warning. About what his brother is planning.” He stared down at her with eyes too serious for this joyful day.
She gasped. “You were right. That is some wedding gift.”
“Can you put it out of your mind for now? I would like to dance.”
“No.”
“No?”
She stood on tip-toe to brush her lips against his while pulling out a hairpin. “I’m afraid my hairdo needs repair. Could you come upstairs and help me?”
THE END
Did you love Runaway?
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Or maybe you want more right now and can’t wait for the next book to come out? I have that for you! Sign up for my mailing list and receive the free novella Lifeline.
Find Lifeline here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/r5ewed69g6
And here’s what it’s about:
Is it stalking when he’s your one true mate?
Lynx shifter Ysabel LeFay meets her mate in a bar only to watch him walk away after two dances. She doesn’t even learn his last name. But a shifte
r can find her mate anywhere, and she soon finds Mark. Now how can she approach him without seeming like an insane stalker?
Mark Kittredge bears too many burdens for a man of twenty-four, raising his two nieces and his nephew, struggling to stay in school while working to support them, and dealing with the aftermath of a divorce. He doesn’t need the attention of the crazy woman who says he’s her mate.
But when tragedy strikes, can Mark humble himself to reach out to her for the sake of those he loves most?
Lifeline is a bonus novella in the Fox Ridge Shifters series of sweet paranormal romances.
Thank you, Dear Reader,
Marianne Hull
Coming soon…
Sprinter
Carolanne Carson stepped from the cool interior of the Oakland Convention Center and told herself the sting in her eyes was from the sudden glare of July sun. After all, she wasn’t a woman who cried.
Squaring her shoulders and raising her chin, she set off across the sweltering expanse of dark pavement toward her silver Camry. Not willing to let anything bring her down, she imagined herself striding into a courtroom as if she expected to slay her opponents with her wits and superior skills. As if she hadn’t just failed the bar exam.
Carolanne didn’t need to see the results in October. Of the two hundred questions, she’d guessed the answer on at least forty. Property law—her nemesis—had taken up so much of her time there were other questions she simply hadn’t had time to answer. Contracts. Ugh. With school, work, and caring for her ailing father, there hadn’t been enough time to study.
Out of habit, she raised her remote to open the driver’s door, but no chirp of the horn came from the car. She ground her already aching teeth. The door remote was one of many things no longer working on the vehicle. She reminded herself to talk to Pop—when he was lucid—about the grinding noise it made when she turned the key in the ignition.
After opening the door the old-fashioned way, she settled behind the wheel and allowed herself a tired sigh. She rotated her jaw, which ached from clenching her teeth for the last two days. Her head reeled from hunger. She’d been too emotionally drained to eat. Crossing her forearms atop the steering wheel, she rested her head on them. Six years of college, months of preparation, and it had all gone up in smoke.
Runaway (Fox Ridge Shifters Book 1) Page 21
